darkness of his own heavy pelt. When he released them her hands were somehow entwined in the
depths of his hair.
“Emmy, sweet Emmy. Don’t be afraid of me. Give me what I want. You’re so intriguing, so soft…“ The words came
lingeringly, persuasively as he reluctantly broke the contact of their mouths to seek the line of her throat.
“Julian, Julian, please.“ But in that moment Emelina couldn’t have said what it was she wanted from him. Her
eyelids were squeezed tightly shut as if to block out the strange reality of what was happening and her ambergold
nails scored the nape of his strong neck.
“I’ve been watching you for days,“ he breathed huskily, his palm sliding down her throat to her shoulder.
“Wondering about you, speculating, playing guessing games with myself. The closer I get, the more you intrigue me.“
“It’s only that you’re bored out here in the middle of nowhere,“ she began, but he interrupted her with rough
certainty.
“Hush, Emmy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.“ And then his hand trailed boldly downward to the
curve of her full breast and closed over it with a possessiveness that should have annoyed her violently.
Emelina couldn’t find the scathing protest she needed. Instead she gasped softly and turned her face into his
shoulder, pressing close to the comfort of the wool plaid shirt he wore. Her fingers at the nape of his neck clenched
almost convulsively and she heard his sigh of masculine pleasure.
“A man could lose himself in your softness, Emmy,“ he growled as if he half resented, half longed for exactly that
fate. Gently he explored the shape of her, and she sensed his growing impatience at the resistance offered by the bra
she wore beneath her velour top.
Slowly bis hand released her and drifted farther downward until he found the hem of the emerald sweater. Emelina
flinched as he slid his fingers inside and discovered the warmth of her skin.
When he felt her start of uncertainty Julian tightened his hold, urging her closer. She was suddenly aware of the
hardness of his thighs beneath her, felt the gathering male tension in his body. Once again Emelina told herself she
must break free of the seductive web he was weaving, but just as she found the strength to try pulling back, he found
the clasp of her bra and released it.
In the next moment the weight of her breast was filling his hand, and Emelina moaned again, this time with die
desire that was springing to life in her loins. What was it that attracted her to a man like this? How on earth could a
dangerous devil like Julian Colter overwhelm the defenses that had stood for years?
When his thumb grazed over a nipple, coaxing it forth, a melting warmth began to flow through her veins. She knew
herself capable of a reasonable level of affection, but she had never thought of herself as a particularly sensual
woman. There had never been a man who could quicken her senses this way. The casual approach her husband had
taken to sex had left her disappointed and unenthusiastic about the intimate embrace. Since the end of her marriage, it
had been an easy matter to keep her physical relationships with men on a safe level. She had not even been tempted to
allow a man into her bed.
But, then, she hadn’t known real temptation, Emelina realized suddenly. This was the genuine article. This
pulsating, beckoning, melting sensation Julian was creating in her. This was real temptation. The danger in Julian
Colter lay not only in his profession, but in the incredible effect he had on her.
“No,“ Emelina finally managed in a rasping, throaty voice as she tried to resist what was happening. “Julian, please
stop.“
“But I want you so, sweet Emmy. I need you tonight. Can’t you feel the need in me? Be generous with me.“ He
circled the now-firm bud of her nipple with the tip of one finger while his lips moved along her throat. His voice poured
over her senses like warm
Liz Wiseman, Greg McKeown